Alien Dragon's Baby: Aliens of Renjer - Book 1

by J. S. Wilder

  Overhead, lightning flashed in the distance and a tingle ran through her. Something awesome was going to happen tonight; she could feel it.

  Chapter Three

  Kohlxchijr choked and spat out swamp water. His side cramped as blood gushed from the wound along his left oblique. Gators swam closer to him, and he let out a dragon roar that made his human throat raw. Forget transforming for now. If he did, it would probably put him in a coma and he'd wake up fodder for these lower lifeforms. Yet, he couldn’t remain in his dragon form indefinitely on Earth. They’d kill him if he was lucky or cut him up for dissection if his luck was shitty.

  Overhead, a plane flew past. He cringed, filled with longing. He wanted to race the jet as he had another time here on Earth. Once he reached Dena’s home, he could shift into his human form.

  He headed toward his friend’s house, thankful for his instinctive homing beacon letting him remember every place he’d ever visited.

  Why did anyone want to live here? It smelled worse than a hedge monster's fart. He adjusted his portal bracelet to stealth mode. Before he could engage his force field, one of the gators lunged at him. Its mouth chomped down on his leg. Piercing pain shot through him.

  “Stupid amphibian!” No reptile would swim in water this murky except here on Earth. He reached down, stopped the creature’s spinning and wriggling by bracing his legs around it, and pried the creature’s mouth open. “Never bite a Renjer again. My brothers would eat you.” He tossed the creature yards away and it swam off quickly. Others continued to stalk him. Before another got brave, he turned on protection mode, creating an invisible, armor-like barrier over his skin.

  Neither of these devices worked back home. Only on Earth, which made him wonder if his kind had once built generators here. No, that was impossible, wasn’t it? His people’s power supply had been one of the first things the Tryns had targeted and destroyed. If they knew about Earth and the power crystals, the enemy would destroy this world too. He couldn’t let that happen.

  Dizziness darkened his vision. He had to get to Dena soon before the poison from the spear knocked him unconscious again.

  Why did she have to live so far away? He sloshed through the water with a trail of alligators swimming after him.

  “Look, Lyle, them gators are tracking something,” a male voice said. “Bring that light over here so I can see better.”

  Two men stood on a pier. A small speedboat rocked alongside them.

  He’d borrow their boat and get to Dena faster. If he tried flying, he’d lose too much blood and possibly pass out and crash into something. He needed quicker transportation than wading through the swamp.

  “Shoot. Those things are headed this way. Let me get our rifles.”

  Kohlxchijr didn't have time for this. Blood loss made him weak and his steps sluggish. At least his invisible armor was still in place and they wouldn’t see him. Still, he avoided the two men, sliding under the water and then the pier.

  Kohlxchijr collapsed into their boat. He hit the engine. The men shouted, chasing him, but he tore off upstream toward Dena’s. The men's shouts echoed behind him. His friend would ensure they got their boat back eventually.

  Half an hour later, Kohlxchijr pulled up to the dock at Dena’s and killed the engine.

  Dena ran out and stopped short.

  Oh right, my cloaking is on and she can’t see me, just the boat. Kohlxchijr squinted to make out the words on his bracelet and took off stealth mode. Then he shifted to his human form, pain ripping through him.

  “Ah… Kohl?” she called the nickname his brother Taurian had given him as a runt and seemed to be the easiest way for humans to pronounce his name, and rushed forward.

  “Spear. Poison.” His words slurred and darkness rose to meet him. Was he too late for Dena to save him?

  * * *

  Kohlxchijr’s side ached as if he'd torn it open and poured acid in the wound. A bright light flickered overhead as he opened one eye.

  “Welcome back.” Dena toasted a glass of sweet-smelling wine to him. “Next time though, don't plow your boat into my pier.”

  “Sorry.” He moved off the couch and grimaced. Lifting his shirt, he found a bandage taped to his side. “Thank you for patching me up.”

  She nodded. “Owe me a new deck too.”

  “Why?”

  “Gee, I don’t know…” she placed her hands on her hips, “maybe because you crashed a boat into it?”

  “As soon as it's daylight, I'll fix it.” His Renjer healing rate was slower than his brothers, but his wound would be mended in a few hours. “Got anything stronger than that?” He pointed with his chin at her glass.

  “Ah no. Last time you were here you drank every drop of Hank’s stash. He still thinks I poured it all down the drain.”

  Despite having never met the man, he hated this Hank for leaving a wonderful woman like Dena. “Want me to have a talk with him?”

  “That's okay.” She shook her head vehemently. “I finally got him out of my life and I don't want him back for any reason. Why are you here?”

  “I couldn't lead the enemy to my family and wounded, I wouldn't have made it far with a poison spearhead in me.”

  “Next time, I might not be able to get the weapon out in time.” She crossed the room and lightly shook a glass jar with the stone piece inside. “Here's your souvenir.”

  “Keep it if you want.” He'd rather not have the reminder of his near miss or failing his people. There was still the matter of the crystals that powered his device here. “Do you have any crystals I can purchase?”

  She raised both eyebrows. “Maybe we should go get a CAT scan of your brain. Obviously, you have a concussion if you think I'm a gem dealer.” She placed the jar on her bookshelf next to a picture of her with a snake around her neck while she wore a huge smile.

  “No. It's for my planet.” He tapped his bracelet. “When I'm here, this is powered and working like a generator.” Isn't that what she called the thing out back that was there if a hurricane came through and took out her electricity?

  “What kind of crystal? I'm no expert, but I think there are several types.” She snapped her fingers. “Billy owns a gemstone collection on the side. Has a bazillion of them encased behind glass on the wall of his bar.”

  “Bar?” Kohlxchijr shook his head. “No this would be a unique crystal. Maybe even something not found on Earth readily.”

  “Like a meteorite? He has a few of those too, locked up in his safe.”

  “How do you know that?” If Kohlxchijr could see the rocks maybe one of them would have a quasicrystal.

  “Easy. He has a pet tarantula that got out once. We looked everywhere with no luck until I told him to redo everything from the day. The spider had crawled inside the safe when Billy had opened it then gotten distracted by a phone call and closed it without checking inside first.”

  “Tell me how to get to this Billy's bar.”

  “You're not in any condition to go anywhere.” She pushed against his shoulder as he rose.

  “Remember, I'm not entirely human.” He pulled up his shirt. The wound was a yellow and purple bruise, tender but not life-threatening anymore. His brothers would have healed by now.

  She rolled her eyes. “Fine. I'll give you Billy's address and directions.”

  “Thanks.” Somehow he had to get this guy to let him into his safe to examine the meteorite. If not, Kohlxchijr would have to steal it.

  Chapter Four

  Isabelle climbed out of the taxi in front of Billy's bar. The music pounded outside. It thumped against her chest and sent a thrill through her. Another sign — the song was her current favorite. Would she see a shooting star if she looked? Overhead, the moon was a magical silver with twinkling stars around it.

  “Stop staring at the sky and let's go dance.” Her sister pulled her arm. “Kate is already here and snagged us chairs at the bar.”

  Figures her older sister would arrive before them. She’d been first at everything
since they were kids. Isabelle nodded and followed Beth inside.

  Christmas lights were strung across the ceiling and down various walls. The only other lights were dim and barely illuminated the bar and dance floor. A live band was squished in a corner near the dancers. Girls and guys gyrated to the latest tunes.

  Her sister waved them over. “I got us shots to start us off.”

  Before either of her sisters said another word, Isabelle snatched up the Jäger and downed it. The liquor burned her throat, but she didn't care. She was here to have fun and, damn it, she would dance with a stranger even if she had to ask a guy herself. At the bartender’s nod, she said, “Another round for me and these two. I'm buying.”

  “You don't have to prove anything to us,” Kate said.

  Thank you, Kate. Her sister, the lawyer, who thought Isabelle wasted her talents on teaching and offered her a paralegal internship.

  “I'm not.” She shrugged. “Just here to have a good time.” For once. She was tired of being her sisters’ shadow and balancing between them both: the professional and the party-girl. “I'm not the designated driver tonight, so we'll either depend on a cab driver or you two will have to draw straws.” She giggled at her own joke noticing the bartender had a cup of black straws beside the register. Another two shots and Isabelle wobbled on her feet. Shit-tastic, it felt good to be buzzed.

  “I think you've had enough.” Her younger sister took away her next drink.

  Isabelle stuck her tongue out at Beth and shook her head. Was this what she was like whenever she had to rein these two in? A movement in the bar’s back mirror caught her attention.

  A dark-haired man with the swagger of a sex god walked across the dance floor and straight toward her. The music muffled under her heart pounding. Damn, she wanted a dance with him. Hell, she wanted to kiss him. She opened her purse and yanked out her lip-gloss and smeared it across her lips.

  People parted out of the way for the giant who was six foot seven or so.

  “Hey handsome!” a woman called out toward the approaching man.

  He ignored her, not even sparing her a glance. “Where’s Billy?” he asked the bartender.

  “Who wants to know?” The bartender poured two beers and slid them down the counter to a pair of waiting patrons.

  “Is he here or not?” The rumble in his voice strummed through Isabelle like she was a guitar tuned by his tone alone.

  “I'll tell you where he is, sugar,” a lady with fake nails on the other side of the stranger said. “For a kiss.” She puckered.

  The thought of this woman locking lips with Mr. Handsome shot liquid fire into Isabelle’s throat. She wanted him to like her, to smile at her. “Billy's upstairs!”

  When Handsome turned his gaze on her, Isabelle stopped breathing. His eyes dark blue glinted in the flickering lights. A blush started at her chest and spread up into her face.

  “Excuse me?” he asked.

  “Billy...the owner...he lives upstairs. Above the bar.” God was she rambling?

  He nodded. “Thank you.” And he moved to the back of the building.

  What was she waiting for? Go ask him to dance. But her feet weren't moving. Instead, nausea swung in her gut. “I'll be back.” She dashed to the restroom, just barely making it to the toilet.

  “Gross,” a young woman said and dashed out.

  Isabelle turned on the faucet and rinsed out her mouth. What made her think she could do this, drink and dance and party better than her sisters without repercussions?

  Her stomach settled enough that she felt better and she left the restroom. A thump sounded behind her that didn't match the beat of the music. The door that led up to Billy's apartment was open. Was he okay? He had owned this bar for fifty years and even though he was older, he was brass as—another thump and a groan.

  Maybe it was the alcohol that warped her thinking or that she'd known Billy her whole life, but the thought he needed help thrummed through her. Guilt choked her that she’d told the big guy where he was. What if the guy was a hitman or loan shark goon or something? She raced up the stairs. Her heart rising into her throat as his front door swung open.

  “Billy?” she asked and entered his apartment without waiting for a response. No lights were on, and she groped along the wall for a switch. A feeling like someone watched her in the dark made her belly somersault.

  She crept forward, feeling along the wall. Where is the freaking light switch? Billy's bedroom was around the corner. She remembered from when she had tutored Billy's grandson on Sundays.

  A whirling sounded behind her made her spin, her hands slapping against a man's upper stomach that was definitely not Billy’s.

  She twisted to run, but he grabbed her arm.

  “Let me go! What have you done to Billy?” When he didn't answer or release her, she kicked his shin. Fuck! Did the guy have metal shin guards or something? She hopped on one foot, but at least the creep let her go.

  “Billy’s fine.” His accent was strange, like a mix of Russian and Welsh now that she could hear it more clearly above the music downstairs.

  “I don't believe you. Who are you?” She stepped back and her legs hit the back of the couch.

  “Suit yourself.” He shrugged and waved out a hand toward the bedroom. “If you are concerned for your friend's safety, take a look.”

  She lifted her chin and limped past him. Was he trying to corner her in the bedroom? She shook her head. That was silly because the guy was a tower and strong. He could easily overpower her and drag her in there. Over her shoulder she said, “I have mace...fair warning.” She clutched her black sequin purse tighter. In fact, all she had on her was her lipstick, keys, license and a credit card. She'd left her cell on the bar between her sisters. Yeah, this was a really dumb idea to come up here alone. The music downstairs was almost deafening and no one would hear her scream and come and help.

  “All right, move aside and I need a light.”

  Instantly, a light clicked on a foot away from her. Mr. Handsome from the bar gave her a wink. How did he know where the light was when earlier he hadn’t even known Billy lived over the bar? She pushed around him to the bedroom, her foot still smarting. Behind her, the lamp showed just enough light. Billy lay on his back softly snoring.

  The pinch between her shoulder blades eased some.

  “Believe me now?” Mr. Handsome asked.

  “So, if he's sleeping, why are you here?” She crossed her arms. “And I heard thumping.”

  He cocked an eyebrow and grinned making her heart dance. Stop it, Isabelle. He could be some type of criminal or pervert who watches people sleep. Yeah, she definitely needed to get out more and not get smashed in the first hour. Tomorrow she was gonna have a killer headache and all this would seem normal.

  “I had some business with him, but looks like I'll have to wait until morning.” He moved to the door. “Coming?”

  “And the noises I heard?”

  “Oh…a…” His expression changed to confusion. “I don’t know what you call them here.” He ran his fingers over his hand. “I stomped two of them and threw them in the trash.”

  She swallowed as revulsion shot through her gut. “Roaches?” God, she hated the pesky bugs.

  “Yes. Roac-hes.” He pronounced the word strangely. “Yup, Dena hates them too. Now shall we go?”

  Dena? A shiver of jealousy raced through her, but she squared her shoulders. Why was that? She didn’t know this dude and had zero claims on him. “I can manage on my own.”

  “I'm sure you can, but I'd like to help you down anyway considering I startled you and you hurt your foot.”

  “No. That's okay. My foot feels much better now.” His offer to help her sent warm fuzzies through her.

  He cocked his head to the side. “All the same, I'll go down with you. Can't have a damsel falling when I could save her.”

  Wherever this guy was from, chivalry wasn't extinct. She gave him a nod and went to the stairs. Both descended, but near the b
ottom she lost her footing and his arms swooped her up. He carried her effortlessly in his arms down the rest of the way. The action sent her pulse into double time. At the bottom of the stairwell, he set her on her feet, but kept his arms around her waist. His body was warm as it pressed against hers. She did something she'd never ever done before.

  Chances were she wouldn't see this guy again. She knew everyone in town, thanks to being born and raised here and working in the private school system. So this guy wasn't from around here and probably he’d be gone by the time she was sober tomorrow. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the mouth. A shimmer of excitement blossomed in her chest. He tightened his hold around her waist and deepened the kiss. His tongue stroked hers, sending waves of pleasure through her. God the man could kiss. Her knees nearly buckled.

  When a group of guys catcalled as they walked past her and Mr. Handsome, he pulled away.

  “Ah, thanks…thank you.” That was the only words her addled brain could come up with. When he brushed a thumb across her lower lip, she shivered and her brain felt muddled. “For the stairs, not this kiss. Not that I didn't like the kiss, I did.” Her face was burning. “But the thanks and the kiss was for keeping me from falling down the stairs.” Was she making any sense at all?

  “You're welcome.” He looked past her and frowned. “Nice meeting you…”

  “Isabelle.”

  He smiled. “Kohlxchijr.”

  “Kohlxh—what?” She frowned as her tongue tried to say the syllables like he had.

  “Just call me Kohl. Lots of my friends do.”

  “Oh, I gave up my nickname of Izzie a long time ago.” Damn, why was she telling him that? “So I prefer Isabelle.”

  “If everyone kept saying your name wrong, you might change your name. Kohl is fine. Really, I’m actually preferring it more and more.” He winked, then moved past her. “Excuse me, I have to leave.”

  “You've been holding out on us, sis.” Beth, her younger sister, rubbed an arm down Kohl's arm. “My place isn't that far.”